Enough
by DefenderofHelplessSemicolons
Summary: It's not enough. Angst. Beckett/Castle; original character. Oneshot.


Funerals. God, Kate Beckett hated funerals.

The last one she'd attended had been for a fellow officer back when she'd been in Vice. She remembered standing outside the church in a sea of white gloves raised to hats, shoulder to shoulder in that blue line. Here, white roses had been strewn around the room. Men and women from high society paraded soberly by the photo board like peacocks in mourning, whispering to each other.

Tired of standing off to the side by herself, she wandered over to the memorial board. She didn't particularly want to look at it. But Martha and Alexis were busy with hostess duties and there was no one else she knew here.

Abby Rainier. 35, almost 36. Pictured skiing, parasailing, hiking, rock climbing; pictured at charity events, lecture series, the premiere of a documentary. A minor celebrity who never let fame go to her head and who loved life hungrily.

There, posing with Castle in Brussels and London and Amsterdam on his European tour. With family (three brothers—pretending to apply a chokehold to one). With Castle again, a homey portrait in which both were wearing aprons and dueling with cooking spoons.

Kate turned away. It's unbecoming to be jealous of a dead woman.

"_I just don't get it," she says. "You were so excited about solving that case. And now it's reopened and you don't want in?"_

_He fidgets. "It's not that I don't want to. But I promised Abby we'd go on that sailing tour. We leave tomorrow."_

"_You even know how to sail?" She crosses her arms._

"_No, but Abby says she'll bring a lifejacket for me."_

Kate scanned the crowd, searching for Castle. The memorial service was starting in fifteen minutes and he was nowhere in sight. She moved to the outer edges of the main room and circled it once, then spotted an open door behind a standing curtain and slipped through it.

A hallway ended at an emergency exit. She backtracked, looked down a cross-corridor and picked a direction. Her heels clicked quietly on the stone floor.

He was by the window, looking out. She stopped behind him. "Been looking for you."

No answer.

The dark suit stretched taut across his shoulders. He'd gained some muscle during the last few months—Abby's influence—and it looked good on him. Not that she was admiring his physique at the moment, certainly not. Only the sight brought back memories.

_He's adorably bed-headed and sleepy-eyed when he opens the door, clad only in boxers and a tank top._

"_You weren't answering your phone," she says. "Crime scene's a few blocks north of here. Figured I'd just come pick you up." She proffers the small tray, loaded with two cups and two donuts. "Breakfast?"_

_He smiles. "Actually, if you have a second I'll make us some smoothies."_

"_Smoothies? Really, Castle?"_

"_Nutritious and yummy! We can eat the donuts afterward." He grins and turns to pull a huge bag of frozen fruit from the freezer. Kate can't help but notice the way the early morning light highlights his shoulders, or the way his shirt clings to a newly trim waist. She's so busy noticing these things under the cover of the blender that she doesn't even notice Abby until the other woman hugs Castle from behind._

"_You let me sleep in," she complains. Kate blinks. It's not even 6:30 yet._

"_After that workout last night?" Castle waggles his eyebrows. Abby groans and smacks him. Over his "Ow!!" she explains to Kate, "We're training for a race. Well, I'm training. He keeps eating my energy bars."_

"_The New York marathon?"_

"_The Iron Man."_

"_Abby may be the athlete, but I'm the—"_

"_Super hero, we know," Abby finishes fondly, and rolls her eyes at Kate. "Why don't you go off with the nice detective and solve some crimes in your spandex, and then I'll meet you at noon."_

"_Let me put some clothes on first." He makes a beeline for the bedroom, hollering over his shoulder, "Steak for lunch!"_

"_For the protein," Abby explains._

"_Of course." Kate smiles and looks down at her smoothie._

"Castle? Are you ready?"

His back was still toward her. "Ten months of watching her skydiving and free climbing," he said. "I should've known it would end like this."

"It was a freak accident. You couldn't have known."

He shook his head meditatively. "She was an adrenaline junkie. I loved her for it, but I worried."

She approached slowly, came even with him. "Did she know?"

"Yeah." He looked over at her briefly. "But I couldn't have changed her, and wouldn't have. I was crazy about her, Kate. She made me feel alive." A long silence. "I would've married her."

_The scene: late at night, after they've solved a tough case—put a cop-killer behind bars. She and her team spend the evening at McCarthy's on 2nd, which is frequented by their kind. Castle's never been in a bar like this; he seems out of place. But he did good work on the case and everyone in the joint keeps buying him drinks. That's mostly because they see him with Beckett and they know her from back in the day. Any man on Kate Beckett's team is fine by them, they say._

_She takes Castle back to his place. He and Abby had a fight a few weeks ago about something or other and she's living elsewhere at the moment. Castle offers her a nightcap. Kate knows she shouldn't say yes. She does anyway. Comes on to him a bit, sits a little too close, sends so many signals a blind man would notice. She can see in his eyes that he's going to finally make a move. After six months of watching him be disgustingly happy with someone who isn't her, Kate's ready to admit to herself that she wants him, and the hell with her standards._

_Except Abby texts him right then, as if she _knows_ what's happening, and whatever she says is enough to make him sober up almost instantly. Castle apologizes and bids Kate a polite goodnight. As he closes the door behind her, he's already dialing Abby._

_The next day, they're back together._

"Do you know what you're going to say about her?"

Castle nodded. "A couple memories. Wrote a few lines. They're not enough. _Enough_ would mean she was still here and I wouldn't have to write anything."

Kate hesitated. It wasn't her place to comfort him the way she wanted to. She didn't know what her place was with him. Not a muse, not any more. A friend, she hoped. It would have to do.

"It's not enough," she said, taking his hand. "But she meant a lot to everyone out there. You just have to remind them of the things they loved about her. They'll do the rest of the work."

After a few seconds he nodded. "Well," he said. "It's time."

He didn't let go of her hand until just outside the door.

_Author's note: after staying up till 3 frakking 30 a.m. the last few nights working on Team Castle, my muse rewarded me by turning into Angsty McFlashbackpants and causing another late night. Morning. Gah._


End file.
